Cruise Control

I have never been on a cruise.

How I managed to live 45 years of life without taking a cruise, I will never know.

But there you have it.

It could have something to do with the fact that I get sea sickness inside the cabin of a boat.

Granted, the boats I’ve been on have been fishing boats or whale watching boats in choppy water.

And so long as I stand outside, in the cold and the wet, I don’t get sick.

I’m not sure how I’d handle being indoors on a large ship.

But I’m guessing that since I get car sick, I’d also get seasick.

My birthfather and stepmother go on cruises and THEY LOVE THEM.

They even took my aunt on the last cruise they went on as a 50th birthday present.

Honestly, it sounded lovely.

Get on a cruise.

Relax.

Get fed well.

Drink your weight in booze.

Get off in ports of interest and sightsee.

Get back on the ship and wait for the next port.

Indulge in leisure activities.

Doesn’t it sound divine?

I don’t want to go on a cruise by myself but I’m thinking I may talk my birthfamily into taking a little cruise, just to see if I can handle it.

Yes, I know there’s Dramamine for the motion sickness, but one tablet of that shit and I am LIGHTS OUT.

Who’s with me?

Who wants to go on a cruise?

Boudoir Reflections

I’m a big believer that if you want to make a change, you have to push yourself outside your comfort zone. Wanting change means that you want something different than what you have right now. But you’ll never get anything different unless you do something different.

For me, doing something different began three months ago when a Groupon for a Boudoir Photography Session landed in my inbox.

“No bloody way,” I told myself as I instantly thought of all my body issues. Then I paused.

How I feel about my body is one of the things I want to change about myself. So in spite of my fear and self-loathing, I decided to purchase it.

As usual, I put WAY too much thought into this activity. And WAY too much money. The process of prepping for my photo shoot was long and drawn out (Part 1, Part 2, Freak Out, Boudoir 1, Boudoir 2, Boudoir 3, Boudoir 4, Boudoir 5, Boudoir 6).  But it was also a lot of fun.

I loved looking at other women’s boudoir photos.  I loved shopping for lingerie, jewelry, and shoes.  It was fun to check out hair and makeup on Pinterest.

But all the time, I kept wondering if I was going to chicken out.  Could I go through with it?  Had I not invested so much money in this activity, I might have skipped out on it.  But I was financially committed, and that was good enough for me.

I learned a lot about myself during my photo shoot.  To begin with, I was very good at asking for what I wanted.  I’d done my research, I knew what I wanted.  Even standing in a room with naught but my underwear on, I was able to tell the photographer EXACTLY what I expected.  Kudos to me.

I also discovered that it’s okay to do it your own way.  You don’t have to do it the way others do it.  When I first started researching boudoir poses on Pinterest, it seemed every woman was a size 2 wearing a thong and a push up bra with thigh-highs, sky-high hair, and heavy makeup.  That wasn’t me.  I wanted to be dressed down and ready for bed.  And that’s how I posed.  Yes, it made for a lot of nudity but I enjoyed taking it off for the camera.

Not surprisingly, I got in touch with my sexy side.  Now granted, she’s not that far away at any given time, but for my photo shoot, my inner vixen came out in full force.  I used to avoid looking at my body in the mirror, and during the photo shoot, I stared at my body in the mirror.  Definitely bodacious!  Now I’m not saying I’ve been cured of my body dysmorphia, but I can say I take it all with a grain of salt now.

My final lesson was a lesson in limits.  I learned that a self-limiting belief is only limiting until you LET IT GO.  The old story I told myself was that I don’t look good naked – my legs are too thick, my butt is too big, and my stomach is too soft.  I have constantly restricted my clothes and my activities in order to “hide” these flaws.  But there I was at my boudoir photo shoot, putting them all on display for the camera.  Suddenly, those “thick” legs felt strong and powerful.  My “big” butt looked appealing, and my “soft” stomach felt womanly.  I felt gloriously sensual, sexy, and all-woman.

THIS IS THE STORY I SHOULD BE TELLING MYSELF, NOT THE OLD STORY.

So my parting words of advice to all the ladies out there are:  Book your own boudoir session.  You won’t regret it.

And also?  If I can get naked and post pictures to the internet, then you can definitely take whatever that first step is toward changing your own story.

Sometimes there’s just a little tug on your heart

Sometimes there’s just a little tug on your heart.

Like when I got an email announcing the next Great Bull Run and I was magically transported back in time to that adrenaline-pumping, thrill-a-minute quarter mile run I made with the bulls….

…and with my friend Mark, who passed away at the age of 41 in January 2015.

Mark himself stayed up on the railing and shot this video of my cousin Jennifer and I running with the bulls:

We both struggled to keep cool in the excessive heat.  Mark wore his kerchief on his head, soaked in water and I rolled a wet one around my neck. He kept giving me money to go buy drinks and although he didn’t ride the mechanical bull himself, he had fun watching Jennifer, her brother Nick, and I ride (and fall) off the bull.  After the Great Bull Run we went to his house and he made me take two showers because I was covered in salt.  LOL  Ah, the memories.

So it’s with more than a little sadness that I think about running with the bulls again this year.  It seems there should be some good cause I can support with my activities – mental health, treatment of depression, sobriety – all worthy causes that Mark might support me supporting them.

But for now I have to sit here with this ache and realize all over again what a remarkable man the world has lost.

And that nothing will ever be the same again.

Pagan Bunny Burn

There’s an event that takes place near Elk Grove, California called The Pagan Bunny Burn.

I attended last year and had a great time, despite the fact that it was pretty damn cold in my tent and it rained (just a little) during the weekend.

This year I wasn’t on the ball and I missed my opportunity to get tickets.

I have a few bunny outfits:

There’s my White Rabbit costume, my Playboy Bunny costume, my Pink bunny costume, and my Black Burner Bunny costume.

So I’m pretty bummed that I’m going to miss it this year.

But since my outfits are mostly designed for the hot weather on the playa at Burning Man, and not the chilly spring weather of Elk Grove, I’ll live with it.

Of course, tickets do come available as we approach the event date so it’s possible I may get to go.

I’m focusing on minimizing my footprint at burner campouts this year.

I have a small 8 x 7 foot tent:

It’s sufficient shelter in a rainstorm, but it’s not wildly insulated and I find I get chilled at night.

You know what I’m talking about – when you have to BURY yourself in the blankets and should anything peek out from underneath, it is met with frigid air and you beat a hasty retreat from the cold.

Yeah, it’s THAT cold.

So you MIGHT see me at the Pagan Bunny Burn.

I’ll be the one sitting on a bar stool at the Endorphin Orphan Bar, drinking a beer and dressed in my burner bunny finest!

 

Heaven

A small detail you may not know about me:

I live with my blind father.

He lost his eyesight maybe 10 years ago and requires a lot of help and assistance – for meals, activities, house chores, etc.

Needless to say, my mom bears the brunt of most of the work, but I help out where I can.

But it’s A LOT of work.

So last weekend, my sister and I flew my mom to Reno (where my sister lives) for a weekend away.

We were also celebrating my mom’s 75th birthday!

We slept in.  Helped with setting up some furniture for my son (who will be attending UNR in the fall and living with my sister), had an awesome meal at a lovely restaurant, and just generally relaxed.

It was heaven!

One thing we did, which we LOVE to do, was paint pottery.

I still have pottery I made in grade school during Mr. Fairman’s art class – a mug with a big bulbous nose which holds pens for me.

Here are the pieces we painted:

Honestly, I had a wonderful time.

And considering that I left Reno to host 10 events in 10 days at work, I needed the R&R.

I had a great time with my mom and my sister.

I think too often I take their presence in my life for granted and it was nice to slow down a bit and focus on them for a weekend.

Latex Farts be Damned

I’ve been thinking about the ABC Party a lot lately and wondering WHAT IN THE HELL AM I GOING TO WEAR?

I don’t really have the time to learn how to craft something out of paper, plastic, or cardboard.

What’s a girl to do?

Why, LATEX of course!

You know, that stuff that the Kardashians wear on a regular basis which is TECHNICALLY used by doctor’s performing surgery. . .

You have to POWDER your body to slip into it.

I once bought a few pairs of latex panties and the pain of putting them on was only eclipsed by the utter and complete DISASTER of trying to get them off (to a chorus of latex “balloon” farts).

It’s NEARLY IMPOSSIBLE to peel them off your body when it’s moist, is what I’m saying.

So I know what I’m getting into when I say I’m thinking of buying an all latex outfit for this shindig.

The thing that I really like about this outfit is that it reminds me of Trinity in The Matrix.

Could there be any cooler chick in the universe?

So the bottom line is I am SERIOUSLY considering wearing an ALL LATEX outfit to the ABC Party.

Latex farts be damned!

Magic is what you make of it

Disney loveMagic always comes with a prince

At least that’s what Disney and Hollywood lead you to believe.

Of course lately, there’s been less focus on the prince and more focus on the heroine, but you get the picture – love, above all, makes the story.

And how are we single ladies supposed to feel about this in real life?

Well, I’ll tell you, being single has never hurt my social life. In fact, I think I get out more and do more things simply because I don’t have a partner to hang out at home with eating pizza and drinking beer with on a Saturday night.

Being single didn’t hurt me when I was racing cars at the Stockton 99.

image

Being single especially didn’t hurt me when I was leaping from an airplane with a hot man and a parachute strapped to my back.

And it certainly didn’t hurt me when I went to the Alameda County Fairgrounds and ran with the bulls.

photo 4No, being single hasn’t hurt one bit.

Even my more carnal urges somehow manage to get taken care of.

So what then is my life missing without a man to “complete” me?

The answer is nothing.

I have friends and family who give me love and camaraderie and lovers who give me intimacy.

Everything else is icing on the cake.

Sure, it’s magical when life and love come with a prince.

But it sure as hell isn’t required.

Magic, is what you make of it.

Pottery!

On Saturday, I drove my tired ass all the way from Los Gatos to Emeryville to take a pottery making class.

The first thing you need to know about throwing clay is that it’s not as easy as it looks.

The second thing you need to know about throwing clay is that having fingernails makes it very hard to work with the clay. One wrong move and your project is ruined.

That said, I embarked on my adventure with enthusiasm and visions of “Ghost” in my head.

There are stages to making any object out of clay and one stage is to make a cone. My cones always looked more like a phallus and I kept stroking it to try to get it to become more of a cone, but no luck. Still, it was fun.

My favorite part of the whole process was simply getting dirty and messy, kinda like I was a kid in kindergarten all over again.

In the end, I found the clay harder to manipulate than I had anticipated but still very fun to work with.

I definitely recommend taking a class or two and learning to make your own pottery.

It’s raining fish!

A few friends and I took to the seas and went fishing this past weekend.

We were fishing for crab and rock cod.

Despite the fact that I kept getting called “sweetheart” by the deck manager, I had a GREAT time.

Getting up at 3:45 am is not ideal, but it allows you to catch sights like the sunrise over the city.

And the Golden Gate Bridge as seen from the water

It took us 3 hours to motor out past the Farallons to our fishing “hole.”

I literally dropped my line in the water and came out with a fish.

It was RAINING FISH.

In the end, after about 4 hours of fishing, I caught 10 fish – mostly medium size rock cod.

Some were olive colored, some were red, and others were bright yellow.

It was rather amazing to see the diversity.

One guy on our boat caught a behemoth!

The thing was over 2 feet long and must’ve weight a good 20 – 30 pounds.

On our way back home from fishing, we stopped and checked our crab pots and we’d caught enough crab for everyone on the boat to get two crabs each.

A deckhand was kind enough to give me two extra so I had 6 crabs, including Tejas’ crabs.

I took the crabs to the bait shack when we got back and left them to be cooked and cleaned.

And that’s when it happened.

Someone STOLE MY CRAB.

Just walked off with the bag of my cooked and cleaned crabs, leaving me with my worthless claim ticket.

But the guys cooking the crab took mercy on me and managed to get me 6 other crabs to take home.

So all is well that ends well.

Still.

Someone stole my catch!

Bad form!

Tires and Boyfriends

tireI do not have a boyfriend.

And the only reason this really matters is that there’s no one there to tell me to rotate my tires, or remind me that my tires need to be replaced.

These are the things I simply don’t think about.

It’s not that I’m an oblivious female – I can change a tire as well as change my own motor oil.

There are just some things I DON’T think about unless they’re staring me in the face.

Tires being one of them.

One of the reasons boyfriends EXIST is to tell their girlfriends these things.

I’ll never forget when my boyfriend Luke asked me when was the last time I packed the ball bearings on my trailer.

The answer wasn’t NEVER, it was “the last time I got the trailer serviced a few years ago.”

He proceeded to scold me and then he packed and greased my ball bearings.

No, that’s not a euphemism for sex.

It means he worked on my trailer for me.

I’ve decided that I need a boyfriend for all these GUY THINGS I don’t think about – packing ball bearings, putting air in my tires, replacing my tires BEFORE they go thread bare, etc.

So I’m interviewing.

Any applicants?

Must know cars (trucks preferred).

 

P.S.  I must give a shout out to my cousin Travis who took a look at my tires a few weeks ago and told me they needed to be replaced.  Badly.